


post-mortems, sugar highs and jeff bridges

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Future Fic, Motels, Movie Night, Romance, Skoulson RomFest 2k15 REDUX, Unresolved Sexual Tension, skoulsonfest2k15redux
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4412429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's become a ritual between them.</p><p>Written for the Skoulson RomFest 2k15 Redux - Prompts: Caterpillars, movie night</p>
            </blockquote>





	post-mortems, sugar highs and jeff bridges

**3:10 to yuma**

She can see he's worried. 

She herself finds it pretty exciting. She's basically bouncing on the bed, working on both the mission report and her personal evaluation to pass on to Dr Garner. Coulson hands her his own notes from the interview. He is just pacing around the motel room. It's still a bit weird, Skye admits, having to share twin beds with her boss. 

"Stop worrying," Skye says. "She's a good kid."

"I know. But the idea of someone able to walk through walls..."

He sits on the bed, still uneasy. And here Skye thought he was going to be the one amazed and fascinated by the gifteds they were going to meet on their Caterpillars project. By judging by the last couple of post-mission conversations, he's going to be the grounded one and she's going to be the one taking the risks. Skye can live with that – Coulson grounding her, worrying about her.

"Cheer up, I bought us candy."

"If you think you can bribe me with –" he starts and then looks at the Skittles she put in his hand. He shrugs, sitting on the bed. "Okay."

"Wanna watch tv?" Skye asks, once she's finished with the paperwork.

"What's on?" Coulson asks.

"I don't know, something old."

But she doesn't change the channel.

"I like black and white movies."

"Because you're so old?" she teases him.

Coulson narrows his eyes at her. "Are you going to be this way every time we're on a mission together?"

"Yep."

 

**journey to the center of the earth**

He empties his pockets on his bedside table, the coins clinking as they fall. Now that they have been doing this a while Skye has noticed a couple of things about Coulson-on-the-road. He likes waking up early, more than in the Playground, rising Skye (who has the opposite behavior) way before they are supposed to leave the room. He _loves_ crappy coffee from motel receptions in plastic cups, and consumes so many of those Skye is beginning to worry. He makes sure to always carry around spare change expressely for tips. This last one made her curious so she asked about it at dinner, right after they finished interviewing a young Inhuman whose abilities hadn't still manifested (they'll keep an eye on him) other than physically, which fortunately weren't too traumatic, but included his hair turning a bright green color which couldn't be dyed over.

About the tipping stuff – because she has started to noticed Coulson is a very generous tipper. He offered a simple explanation at dinner. It's an understandable habit once he tells Skye that his mother held many jobs during his childhood, but she often fell back to waitressing. Tips were important to her (they were important to him growing up, as they often decided how many times a week they could afford to eat meat) so he learned to sympathize.

I like this bit, Skye thinks, watching him empty his pockets.

It's how she imagines being married to someone nice must feel like. Comforting. Companionable. Fascinating.

"Do feel like a movie or do you want to turn in?" Coulson asks. This time he's the one who asks, switching through channels. "They don't seem to have much offer but..."

"Whatever you like," she says, unzipping her boots before she lies down. 

"You're worried about the fact that we don't know how these people are getting their powers?" he asks, even though they haven't talked about today's mission that much. 

"Yeah." And she has a bad feeling about that, but she doesn't tell Coulson.

"You'll figure it out," he says casually, finding some bad Jules Verne adaptation with ridiculous special effects they can laugh at. "You're good at that, finding patterns."

Skye likes this Coulson-on-the-road.

 

**the big lebowski**

"Finally you can get some film education."

"I need a film education?" Coulson asks.

"Shh, it's about to start."

She actually grabs him by the arm and sits him down on the bed. She's excited for him to watch this. She likes the idea of sharing something she likes with Coulson. He smiles at her, like he's indulging her. But Skye knows him, and he knows he's going to love this too.

The mission was pretty successful, so she's in high spirits.

Skye wonders if this is going to be a ritual for them, watching movies in motel rooms after working on their secret project. She doesn't mind. He's different when they are alone out here. Tonight he's even taken a couple of tiny bottles of scotch from the mini-fridge.

And she can tells he likes the movie because normally he's too easily distracted and he's be talking about work or the town they have ended up in this time, the local delicacies, stuff like that. Movies require more patience than he usually has so they end up watching bits of them and then talking well into the night until they fall asleep, normally with the tv still on. Skye feels like she's just having a lot of sleepovers with him.

There's commercials and Coulson stands up and takes off his shirt, grabbing his travel kit. He sits on the bed again and starts applying some kind of gel to his upper arm, right above the metal band where his robotic hand starts. Skye looks at the process with curiosity, remembering other times when he had taken a long time in the bathroom before going to bed.

"You have to do that every night?" she asks.

"My beauty routine," he teases.

"Does it hurt?" she asks.

"Nah. But the skin around the prothesis can get irritated if it gets dry," Coulson explains.

He's pretty casual about the whole thing, Skye guesses there's enough familiarity, now that they are used to sharing motel rooms and car rides and bathroom turns.

"Sorry. It must suck."

He shakes his head.

"I get an amazing robot hand in exchange," he say. "I can't shoot missiles like Mike but I'm pretty sure I can crush a can of beer with my fingers. Probably."

Skye laughs. If that's how Coulson wants to play it she's not going to be the one to tell him it's unhealthy. It'd be pretty hypocrital of her.

"This is Chandler, right?" he asks, looking at the tv screen again.

"What?"

"The movie. The Dude. Jeff Bridges. He's Philip Marlowe. This is an adaptation of The Big Sleep."

He _was_ paying attention.

"I haven't read the book but yeah," Skye says, "you're right, The Coens said in the DVD commentaries. About Chandler."

"You've listened to the DVD commentaries?"

"I told you, I love this movie."

God, now Coulson thinks she's a dork. Great.

"It's okay," he admits, shifting his gaze from Skye to the screen again.

"You like it, admit it."

"It's okay," he repeats, and smiles sideways at her.

 

**the friends of eddie coyle**

He examines the cut above her eye while the tv keeps playing.

His spooked face makes her feel a bit better. Not because she wants to worry him, but when you have a brush with death it doesn't feel bad to know there are people out there who care, people to whom it would matter, if you were dead or alive. Skye didn't have that until recently, and it's a good reason.

"Do I need sutures?" she asks.

"I don't think so," Coulson says.

He prods a bit, pinching her eyebrow between his thumb and index. She winces but it's not too bad. She's more ashamed than anything, for letting that guy kick her ass. Coulson listens patiently while she does the post-mortem like always and talks about the dude's powers (which boils down to "strong, freaky strong") and comforts her by telling her there are sandwiches in the mini-fridge and that he's calling the base to let them know they are taking the day off tomorrow, so she can sleep in. He gives her his pillow so she's more comfortable when he finally lets her lie down.

"What were you watching?" she asks. He has been waiting for her, worried, for a while after she missed their meeting point.

"The Friends of Eddie Coyle."

"Is it good?"

"Yeah, very."

"Cool." She's ready to settle against the pillow and let the drugs do their magic.

"But forger about that," he says, turning off the tv, "I'm going to run a hot bath for you."

She's found this out about Coulson while on the road: he's the guy you'd want with you after you lose a fight.

 

**basket case 2**

"I love horror movies," she says.

Coulson drops on the bed next to her, kicking off his shoes. 

There's little ceremony left between them anymore – Skye thinks they have spent way too much time alone for that, and they have patched each other up too many times on a mission to be self-conscious about it.

The twins beds have been pushed together this time, like it's one king sized bed, so they are invading each other's space all the time. They don't care anymore. They are exhausted and they want to watch a movie together like they always do.

"That is disgusting," he says, pointing at the tv.

"It's a classic."

"How can it be a classic if it's from the 80s? And it's a sequel."

"Because the sequel to _The Godfather_ never did anything for anyone."

"Did you just compare _this_ to _Godfather Part Two_? This guy's deformed Siamese brother is a face living in a basket."

"It's a classic," she repeats.

He shakes his head and goes back to watching the movie. He keeps making faces. Skye finds those somehow more interesting than the movie. It's not often one gets to see the boss freak out over crappy visual effects. And she has seen this movie many times. Coulson's face is way more entertaining right now.

At some particularly interesting point – those brothers really want revenge – Coulson lets out a horrified sound and grabs Skye's face, turning his head away from the tv screen and pressing it against Skye's shoulder.

Which is of course the greatest thing that has ever happened.

"Coulson did you–?" she sits up, muting the movie. "Did you just kind of hide your face on my shoulder because you were scared of the movie?"

He scrunches his face, trying to look more offended than embarrassed, except that Skye can see his ears turning pink. "I wasn't scared," he argues. "It was gross."

"You kill people for a living."

"I don't kill people for a living. Killing people is not the main goal." 

Skye laughs. "Okay but you see dead bodies on the job all the time."

He takes the remote control from her hand. "It's not the same," he says, turning up the volume. "And for the record, I don't particularly like seeing dead bodies in real life either."

He makes a disgusted face at the screen. It's cute, in its own Coulson-ish way.

"It's okay," Skye says, huddling up to him. "I'll hold your hand if you get scared."

 

**the ides of march**

"I haven't seen you in a while," he argues, trying to explain himself.

That's touching and Skye has missed him too, but barely a reason for binging on vending machine food like this.

Things she's noticed about Coulson-on-the-road: he's a stress eater. Tonight she watches him eat almost all their stash, while Skye brings him up to speed on her deep undercover mission. Even though she went through the trouble of ordering a movie with Ryan Gosling in it Coulson just lies on his stomach on the bed, back turned to the tv as he watches Skye talk.

She doesn't think all the mission talk is that boring but she watches him gradually fall asleep, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her stomach. He sighs happily as he holds her tighter in his sleep. She indulges herself a bit by stroking his hair while he sleeps. Coulson is Coulson but he's also the closest thing to an intimate relationship Skye has had in years. 

"You need a haircut," she tells him when he wakes up. "I didn't think the movie was so boring."

He stirs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He's been drooling all over Skye's jeans.

"What happened? Did I fall asleep?"

He lifts his head, but he's still resting his chin on her thigh, like Skye's leg is too comfortable to move.

"You kind of passed out on me," she explains.

His eyes narrow at her words but every movement he makes looks so slow. His fingers start untagling from her hip and Skye keeps waiting for the moment when he realizes how inappropriate the whole scene looks. 

"Passed out?"

Skye points at the little hill of chocolate and candy wrappers he left on the drawer. "Too much sugar then..."

"I'm not five tears old," he says, offended. Well, she's not the one who crashed.

"No, but it's been a long day."

Finally the moment comes when he realizes how this must look like.

"I'm really sorry," he says, retreating.

"A hot guy asleep on my lap? Yeah, it was such a horrible experience for me."

"Hot guy?"

"Hot _Director_? Sorry."

"Skye?"

"Forget it, let's go to sleep."

 

**the postman always rings twice**

"Skye, we have to talk about this," he says.

But the thing is, she is trying very hard to ignore him. She's been trying to ignore him for the last half hour.

"I want to know how the movie ends," she says, lamely.

Coulson takes the remote from her hand gently and he turns off the tv. Unlike other times they've been hotel up in a motel room after a Caterpillars mission he hasn't taken off his jacket, his tie, or his shoes, like he's afraid Skye is going to perv on him or something.

"I'm just fooling around, you know that," she says in her defense.

And it's mostly true. She doesn't feel as close to anyone as she does to Coulson, it's fun pretending they have more intimacy than they have. This past year she has seen a side of Coulson she didn't know existed. That made her curious. Curiosity and loneliness can do a number on you.

"Skye, I know what you are doing."

She snorts. "You're so observant."

"Skye, it can never happen."

He keeps saying her name like that makes his point more valid. Skye pretends she doesn't know what he's talking about.

"What?"

"This."

He taps his fingers against her knee. 

"I can't sleep with you," he tells her.

She didn't think he'd be so straightforward. Or brutal. She's been flirty these last weeks but she didn't think it was a problem.

"I'm so sorry," she says, choosing her words carefully. She's good at that, minimizing damage once she scres up. "I didn't mean to mess things up between us. What I said in you office–"

"You didn't."

She hugs her legs, wanting to forget the whole thing.

"It's no big deal," she protests. "I'm sorry I brought it up."

It's not like she's in love with Coulson or anything, right? And he looks like he could use some company, too. Sometimes he looks at her like he's thinking it, too, but Skye must be mistaken about that, she must be imagining things. 

He moves closer, glancing at Skye like she's so full of shit.

"I know our relationship has never been particularly professional," he tells her. "But I'm still your boss. And there are lines we can't cross."

"And why is that exactly?"

"You should be proud of how far you've come. Your career, you've earned it. I don't want anyone ever doubting that. And I'd wonder if I was taking advantage of you."

"You would never take advantage of me," she says, touching his face and surprised Coulson lets her do that. "You're a good guy." She needs to say it, because he knows that, everyone knows that, but because of this job maybe some days he doesn't.

"I wouldn't take advantage, not consciously," he says. "It's a personal choice. Can you understand that?"

Skye nods, feeling stupid.

It all makes sense, but it still sounds so lonely. She just wanted someone in her life. And Coulson is already in her life.

"You must think I'm pathetic," she says.

"Of course not. I'm flattered," Coulson tells her. "How could I not be? You're... you. And I'm a middle-aged disabled spy who's probably going bald. I'm going to keep this moment in a box and take it out on the bad days, I promise."

She chokes out a laugh. That actually makes her feel better. Though Coulson must be crazy if he thinks anyone believes he's a poor catch. He takes her hand in his and kisses it, moving up to kiss her cheek afterwards. And it's 200% platonic but Skye enjoys it anyway.

"Does that film really ends badly?" she asks him.

"Yeah. He ends up getting the death sentence."

 

**sudden fear/a woman's face**

"Do you know if this movie is any good?" she asks Lincoln. "He likes black and white stuff."

Lincoln looks at her like she is too crazy to even merit an answer and focuses his attention on the unconscious body on the bed. The bruises on Coulson's head are an ugly dark purple. Which is why Skye refuses to look at him and keeps her focus on the tv screen, her back turned to both doctor and patient.

"His head will hurt like hell tomorrow," Lincoln is explaining. "But it should be fine."

"Mmm-uh."

"Have him drink a lot of water. If he feels nauseous or starts throwing up call me again, okay?"

Skye nods without looking at him.

Lincoln yanks her arm lightly. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asks. "He almost died, you know."

Skye swallows hard, trying not to cry. Lincoln is a doofus but he's smart enough to know what Coulson means to her, he doesn't need to remind her how close she's been to losing him today. She clutches the remote until her knuckles go white.

"Yeah, he almost died," she repeats, and it's so hard saying the actual words. "But he'll want to watch a movie with me when he wakes up."

She's not a doctor and apparently she's not strong enough to protect him from harm but she can do this for him, she can make sure there's a goddamn nice movie on when Coulson wakes up.

Lincoln shakes him head, but he smiles at her a bit.

"You guys are so weird," he says and he leaves her some extra painkillers before leaving, just in case.

Skye makes her decision and sticks to this channel. She turns the volume almost completely off and brings up the subtitles, so she won't bother Coulson. She lies next to him, and tries to pay attention to the plot of the film. That is not exactly a success but at least Coulson's breathing seems easy and even, despite the fact that Lincoln said he thought he had a cracked rib he needed to have checked as soon as it was safe for him and Skye to leave the motel.

And Lincoln is an idiot because when Coulson wakes up the first thing he does is ask what movie they are watching tonight. Ha.

"Something with Joan Crawford."

"Oh, good." His voice sounds all soft and slow from the painkillers and the head trauma.

"Yeah, I know you fancy her."

Coulson chuckles, and it sounds a bit painful. He's obedient when Skye orders him to drink a whole glass of water. She helps him sit up for it, rubbing his back. When he is done they both lie down again, Skye resting her head on his shoulder and trying not to cuddle him so much that she'll hurt him. Coulson seems to welcome the touch, even slipping his arm (with some difficulty) around her shoulders. 

They watch the movie to the end. But it's a double bill, and the next one is Joan Crawford too.

"How am I alive?" Coulson asks, eventually. "I shouldn't be alive."

Skye shrugs against his body. "You were lucky? Lincoln was here? I'd never ever let you die? You pick."

He strokes her hair gently.

"The last one," he mutters. "I pick the last one."

 

**rio lobo**

"Skye," he calls, hugging her from behind. 

He kisses the back of her neck, muttering "it's okay, it's okay" to her. 

"No, it's not," she says and her voice is loud above the noise of the movie they are not longer watching. She was doing okay. Their usual rituals. Coulson taking off his jacket and tie and leaving the extra money for tips on the bedside. Skye typing the mission report on her tablet while Coulson did his skin-care ritual. She brushed her teeth while he asked which movie sounded good.

They weren't talking about the mission and Skye settled in bed, ready to watch a couple of hours of John Wayne on a horse, ready to not talk about the mission as long as she could. She had killed the lights, because even though she was okay, really, she was doing well, she didn't need Coulson seeing her face.

Now Coulson is holding her in that darkness, his arms around her middle, clasped over her stomach while Skye holds on too, fingers digging into his hands to stop him from trying to move away. He doesn't move away.

"She doesn't understand what's happening to her," she says, talking about today's mission.

"I know. It's not your fault."

But it is. It had taken them the better part of this year to figure out how the new Inhumans were changing, specially because none of them seemed to realize what had happened. It was something done against their will and Skye – Skye sympathized, without knowing she was ultimately to blame for it.

"She's eight," Skye mutters. "She can't control or understand..."

"I know. It's not your fault," Coulson repeats.

"I'm not one of the bad guys," she says between her teeth.

Coulson just holds her tighter. And that means nothing right now. Except it means _one thing_.

She turns around to look at his face. The light from the tv screen illuminates Coulson's kind features.

"Coulson..." she starts. She knows it's her fault. He knows that too. She brushes her index across his lips. "Coulson, please, can you–?"

He doesn't let her finish. He nods and presses his mouth against hers.

 

**the postman always rings twice**

"Hey, remember the last time we saw this movie?"

"I think so," he says, dropping their bags on the floor.

"The night you told that nothing could ever happen between us, and you would never ever sleep with me. Remember _that_?"

Coulson groans, throwing their ritual vending machine dinner at her face.

"Here, Skittles, those are yours," she says, throwing it back at him.

He gets in bed – they have abandoned the pretense of twin beds a long time ago – and wraps his hands around her hips, pressing his face to Skye's stomach.

"I think I more than made up for my... _madness_ , that night."

He does sound regretful, and he has made up for it in the last months. 

"That's good, very good," Skye says, dipping her head to kiss him. He tastes like crappy motel coffee. Like home. "You must have been mad to reject me."

He groans again, resting his head on her lap, shoving a handful of candy into his mouth. Skye wants to watch the end of the movie – even if things end up badly for the characters, she still wants to see it through. She buries her fingers into Coulson's hair, massaging the back of his skull.

"Mad," he repeats, turning his head. He slips one hand under Skye's shirt, rolling it up and kissing her above her navel. "What was I thinking?"

"Beats me," she says, shifting her weight so Coulson can lie between her thighs. "Something about not wanting to take advantage of me."

"Really?" he says, amused, dropping kisses above her waistline. "No, that doesn't sound like me. He sounds like an idiot."

He grabs the remote control and turns the tv off. They've been literally ten minutes inside the room. She hasn't even brushed her teeth yet. Coulson-on-the-road is so needy.

"Hey," she protests as he starts unbuttoning her jeans. "I was watching that."

Well, Skye thinks, she already knows the ending.


End file.
